Of Burns, Masks, and Tears
by FieryCaptainSpiderSanta
Summary: My life was full of happiness. I had my parents, and I had the opera. Nothing could be better. Oh, how one night can change everything...
1. Prologue

**A/N- So, I watched Phantom of the Opera recently. (It took me, like, three nights to get all the way through. I loved the movie, don't get me wrong, but it was opera music at, like, midnight. Sue me for falling asleep.)**

 **Anyway, inspiration struck, this story was born. :D Hope you all enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera.**

I laughed joyously, running through the streets ahead of my parents. I skillfully dodged all of the other people on the crowded road, going about their business. I swung around the corner, and stopped abruptly, resting against the side of the building. I grinned widely at the sight of the Opera Populaire, and sighed. Father always brought Mother and I to the opera on the first weekend of the month. I loved watching the performers, and hearing their music, but most of all I loved looking for the famed Phantom of the Opera.

He hasn't made an appearance since the Disaster, almost ten years ago. Some think that he's dead, or that he never existed, and it was a crude joke gone wrong. But they weren't the ones that were there that night.

I was only five, so I wouldn't remember, nor was I there to experience it. But, I had listened to the stories of those that were, those that had survived with barely their lives, and of the man that they had seen, the being with a scarred face. They told the stories as though he was a villain, a demon working for the Devil himself. I saw him differently, though. As a lost soul, misunderstood and misguided, tortured by the cruelties of our world, not an evil murderer, better dead and gone.

My parents soon came round the corner as well, smiling warmly at me. I grinned widely back, and linked arms with them, standing in the middle, as the three of us walked into the Operahouse.

We took our seats, and I waited with bated breath for the opera to start. Most children my age would be terribly bored at an event such as this, but I adored it. Then again, I was raised in a family that truly appreciated the arts, so it would be expected of me to.

The curtains were drawn, and the Prima Donna, Lady Carlotta, began singing. I was never a fan of her voice- it was too screechy for my taste- but I had also heard things much worse. I vaguely remember, when I was very little, another woman singing, Lady Christine. Her voice was nothing short of angelic, and still wound its way through my dreams. She had left the Opera Populaire after the Disaster, though, with her beloved, Raoul, or so said my parents.

My eyes carefully scanned the top seats, hoping to spot the dark figure with the mask. Slightly disappointed- though not deterred- when I didn't see him, I instead watched the faces of those watching the opera. That was another favorite pastime of mine, people-watching. You could learn almost everything about a person, by simply watching them.

For instance, I spotted Lady Eulalie, and knew that she had come to escape an argument with her husband. Though they loved each other deeply, they had the occasional falling-out, and her reprieve was often found through the opera. Another man. I noticed, had just left his family, in order to explore the new world. I could tell, because he was trying to keep his awed gaze on the stage, though it kept drifting around the theatre, and he was also fairly young.

My attention was soon recaptured by the opera, and so it stayed, until the very end, when everyone clapped enthusiastically, the actors bowed, the curtains closed, and everyone began to depart.

My parents and I stood, leaving as well. When we returned home, Mother prepared a simple meal, as per our monthly routine, and we ate together, as a family. My parents always included me in their conversations, treating my opinions as they would an adult's. They believed that the young held a wisdom of their own, separate of that you gain as an adult. After supper, we sat around the fireplace, and Mother and I listened as Father read aloud.

Soon, it was time for me to go to bed. I went to my room, put on my nightclothes, and climbed under the covers. As I closed my eyes, I hoped that my life would remain this peaceful and convivial forever.

But, of course, that was a childish thing to hope for.

 **A/N- I would just like to say that this was one of the shortest chapters I have written, but I couldn't extend it any further, and it was kinda just set-up. So, I decided to make it the prologue, because I was too lazy to actually figure out how to extend it.**

 **Anyway, I just realized that I forgot to tell you all her name. It's Adrienne. I don't have a last name for her (if any of you think of one, leave it in a review, or PM me)**

 **In case you're wondering, she has waist-length brown hair, green eyes, tan skin, and a lean figure. If you didn't pick up on the subtle math, she's fifteen, and this is ten years after the majority of the plot of the movie (not the part in the future, where Christine is dead, and Erik and Raoul are old)**

 **That was the first time I've introduced a character in an Author's Note. It was also the only chapter I have ever written with no dialogue. Which feels really weird, by the way. But you all don't care. Nor do you have to. For the most part, these A/N's are mostly going to be random drabbles of whatever is on my mind when I'm writing, so you can pretty much just ignore them. Though, occasionally, I do have important info in them, but I'll let you all know in big letters when that happens.**

 **Okay, I'm done. Fave, follow, review, and PM me!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hi! I'm back because I have no social life, which is PERFECTLY FINE BY ME! (*cough*dad*cough*)**

 **Anyway, reviews! (Because, if you are unfamiliar with me, I like to respond to reviews in the first A/N)**

 **daringwolf2000: First, I hope it turns out well, too, and I'm glad you like it so far! Second, you're awesome, you know that?! You're pretty much ALWAYS the first one to review when I post a new story, and you're always so supportive, so thank you so much for that! Virtual dessert for you! (And a dragon)**

 **Okay, on to the story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.**

I was awoken but a few short hours later by the sharp smell of smoke. I sat up, immediately alert and on edge. Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I stood carefully, and walked over to the door. I reached for the handle, but yanked my hand back with a yelp of pain. The metal was scorching hot, and had burned me. I picked up one of my sheets, wrapped it around my hand, and carefully opened the door.

A fiery wall greeted me, blasting me back with a wave of unbearable heat. I stumbled away from the flames, when a panic erupted through me, clutching my chest with painful claws. I stepped forward once again, ignoring the heat, and looked desperately for the forms of my parents.

"Mother! Father!" I called their names, screaming over the roar of the fire, smoke burning in my lungs.

There was no response, though, no flicker of movement to indicate that they were alive. I screamed for them until my voice ran hoarse, and even past that, until it felt like my throat would bleed from the strain. I coughed and hacked, backing away from the growing fire. I looked out the open window, but the ground was too far away for me to be able to jump, and I couldn't climb down. I was stuck. I collapsed against the wall, tears running down my face, and waves sadness crashed over me, like a violent tsunami.

I was going to die, drowning as I burned to death.

Suddenly, there was a thud, right next to my ear. I jumped, and glanced over, seeing a rope swinging slightly, but starting to slide back over the edge of the window. I grabbed it hastily, and once again looked out the window. The rest of the rope was swinging freely, and I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. Glancing in that direction, I only caught a flash of white, and then a swish of black, before the dark figure was gone.

Shaking off the odd feeling, I hastily retreated back into my room, and made my way over to my bed, tethering my end of the rope to it's leg. I screamed in pain as a lick of flame reached out, and I felt the searing pain as it burned my face. I ran back over to the window, and carefully climbed down, using the rope to walk down the wall. I let go with one hand in order to cover my face as the flames leaped out of the window, and luckily I was only a few feet above the ground, because the rope broke, burned by the fire. I fell the last bit of the way down, landing harshly on my bottom, not injured but the burn on my face, and the few bruises from the landing.

People came running, men with pails of water to put out the fire. I barely noticed, though, as many came over to try to ask what happened. I was in too much pain, both physically and emotionally. I had just lost my parents, the only family I ever knew. I had nothing now. That fire had taken everything from me. I had nowhere to turn, no home, no family, nothing. I was orphaned, homeless, scarred, and unmitigable.

A woman came over to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, tears running down my face, to see her cold, cynical face staring down at me.

"Come, child." Her voice was demanding, as unwelcoming and hard as her appearance. "You shall live with me now."

"W-who are you?" My throat was raw, and my voice weak, as I used my first words since the tragedy to ask the name of the woman who was now holding the key to my future.

"I am Madame Florine DuFour, but you will address me as Madame, Mistress, or Madame DuFour," she replied. "Now, come along. We must get you cleaned up and rested."

I stood, following her without another word. She took me to her home, which was as barren and cold as she was. She led me to what I presumed would be my room, furnished with only a small hanging mirror, a chamberpot, a water basin, and a small bed, barely large enough to hold my figure. I turned to her, thanking her for her hospitality, and Madame DuFour departed, leaving me to wash up and go to sleep. Though, I knew that I would never be able to go back to sleep, not tonight, not after what happened.

* * *

Somehow, during the night, I had drifted off into a fitful slumber, but I was aroused early in the morning by a bell, ringing quite obnoxiously. Groggily, I stood, and went to see what had happened.

When I was greeted by the sight of Madame DuFour, rather than my parents, and the events of last night crashed over me.

I was kept from tears, however, by the harsh look she gave me. It was a look that obviously did not tolerate weakness, and I refused to show it. She shoved into my hands roughly. "Take these, put them on. Then report to the kitchens. You'll get your list of chores there."

"E-excuse me?" I stammered. I had never had chores to do before, but I was fairly competent. My mother had made sure of that, believing that, while a woman was just as capable as a man, their primary duties lied in housework.

"You heard me," Madame barked. "You will work for your keep. Now, do as I say."

I nodded, and retreated into my room, quickly putting on the scratchy, knee-length dress. I glanced at myself in the mirror, and gasped at what I saw. The left side of my face, once as smooth and pretty as the right, was now marred by ghastly burns. I gently ran my fingers over the pocked surface, before turning away, leaving to find my way to the kitchens.

When I got there, there were a few women bustling around, hard at work, too occupied to notice me. I lightly grabbed the arm of one going by me, in hopes that she could help. "Pardon, but do you know who I'm supposed to ask for my list of chores?"

She gave me a quick once-over, eyes critical, but hiding a depth of kindness to them. She smiled at me, before setting the basket of laundry she was carrying on her hip, and fishing a paper out of her bosom. She handed it to me. "Here you go, darling. You must be Adrienne. Terribly sorry to hear of your parents, dear, such a tragedy. And your face, poor dear. I'm sure you were beautiful. You can call me Berthe. Welcome to Madame DuFour's home."

I smiled, thanking her, and read over my list of chores. First on the list was eating a quick breakfast, which I did- it was porridge- while reading over the rest. Bring breakfast to Madame DuFour, hang the laundry, do the dishes, fold the sheets, serve lunch, serve tea, serve dinner, tend to any whims of Madame DuFour. It didn't seem too terribly difficult, and I quickly finished my breakfast, putting the bowl with the other dirty ones I would have to clean later, and got started on my chores.

* * *

Later that night, I collapsed on my bed in exhaustion. My work wasn't too terribly difficult, as I had anticipated, but there was quite a lot of walking to be done, leaving my legs and feet sore. But, I supposed that I would get used to it. Because that was my life, now.

The life of a poor, orphaned servant girl, with nothing to call her own.

 **A/N- So... uh... yeah, that happened...**

 **Seriously, this story now holds a record for 'Least Amount of Dialogue Written' by me. Normally, pretty much all of my writing is comprised of characters talking. But, I kinda prefer writing like this. I feel like it means I'm getting to be a better writer. (Although, I know as a fact that I've improved. I've gone back to read some of my other works, and cringed at it. Some of you who know my early writings on here may disagree, but I think I was pretty bad.)**

 **Okay, I'm done. Fave, follow, review, and PM me!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N- Sup, people! I'm back!**

 **So, there were no reviews for the last chapter. Not that I mind all that much, but I love getting reviews from you people. Kind of an indication for me as to how good my story is, as well as how my writing is coming along. But, anyway, it doesn't really matter.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.**

I balanced the tray carefully, laden with tea and biscuits. It's been almost three weeks, and carrying a load like this was almost second nature to me by now.

Today the load was a tiny bit larger, though, as Madame DuFour had guests over. I was to serve them tea, and tend to any needs they asked of me. I was surprised that Madame DuFour wanted me there, scarred as I was. As a precaution, I carefully, hid my face behind a curtain of my hair, and kept my head low as I delivered the tray, and poured the cups of tea for the four ladies. Risking a glance at Madame DuFour, she gave me an uncharacteristic smile.

"Come, now, dear, don't hide your face," she urged. I could almost hear a hidden venom in her voice, a mocking undertone, but I ignored it, knowing I couldn't defy her.

"Yes, Madame," I ducked my head a bit, before brushing my hair behind my ear, revealing my scars. To my surprise, the other ladies began laughing, though not joyously. No, their laughter was mocking, slicing cuts through my heart. They laughed at the burns that haunted me every day, a painful reminder of what I had lost.

"Oh, dear, what a tragedy," one of them crowed.

"She deserved it, though," another cackled.

Forgetting my manners, my head snapped up, and I looked her in the eye, disbelief and confusion running through me. "Pardon?"

"Oh, you know," she sneered. "It's the price you pay, for being a _murderer_."

I gasped in outrage. "I'll have you know, I have never once killed a person!"

"Don't play games, child," the third chided. "Everyone knows that you lit the fire, and killed your parents."

"What?" Anger was flooding me now. How dare they! "Why on Earth would you presume that?"

"Well, it's little _too_ convenient, wouldn't you say?" the first sniffed. "After all, you were the only one awake. _And_ , you had the only means of escape. Truly, who keeps rope in their room?"

"I didn't _have_ the rope," I said quietly. "Someone threw it into the window, just in time for me to be able to tether it, and get out. And, why would I kill my parents? I loved them dearly, and my life was wonderful. On top of that, if I did indeed plan the fire- which I most certainly did _not-_ would I truly have been scarred?"

"So, you had an accomplice, hmm?" The second lady narrowed her eyes at me. "Perhaps the fire escalated quicker than you imagined, and that was how you were burned."

"Plausible, but, again, _I would never kill someone_ ," I protested fiercely. "Besides, I would have had no motivation, whatsoever."

"Oh, darling, the entire town already knows you're not in your right mind," the third lady replied in a patronizing tone. "You killed them in an act of insanity. Not that it matters. Everyone knows that they were abusive, and daft."

The anger coursing through me raged like never before. Before I could think, I slammed down the tray, and pulled my hand back, delivering a good, hard _slap_ across this procacious, contumelious, brazen hellion. I sniffed smugly when she cried out in shock, and had to fight to keep the smile off my face when I saw the bright red marks on her face.

"Ms. Adrienne!" Madame DuFour yelled in outrage. I looked to her, a fire of defiance blazing in my eyes. Anger blazed in hers, and suddenly, I felt a stinging pain across my face, as I was slapped in return. My head snapped to the side, and I slowly brought it back forward, my lips curled in rage.

"I quit," I said firmly, with an air of cartel that was very uncharacteristic of me. Or, perhaps, it _was_ me. After all, I had never been driven to this point of animosity before. I spun on my heels, and strode confidently out of the room, not looking back, and went to what _used_ to be my room, to gather my things.

When there, however, I realized I had nothing. To top it off, I had just thrown away the little bit of a life I had anymore. Granted, it was a less than pleasant life, but a life, and a home, nonetheless. Now, I had nowhere to turn.

I looked around the small bedroom, tears forming in my eyes, before turning away, and leaving, ignoring the questions of the other servants.

I left the house, letting my feet simply run. I had no destination in mind, just _away_. Away from that house, away from Madame DuFour and the mocking women, away from the accusations of murder- _murder!_ \- away from the fire, away from the death of my parents. I was running away from everything.

I ran and ran, until my legs and chest burned. Tears blurred my vision, but I could just make out the shape of the Opera Populaire. I had come here, led by my subconsciousness, to the one place left that could comfort me.I sobbed quietly, and silently slipped inside.

The actors and actresses were rehearsing, and everyone's attention was mostly on them, so I was able to evade detection by sticking to the shadows and edges of the room. I had come here so often, for as long as I could remember. In the rare case where I felt as though I needed to escape, I always came here to hide. The cast and crew loved me, allowing me to roam the opera house freely, so long as I wasn't in the way. Normally, I would go to them for comfort, but, after earlier, I couldn't be sure they would accept me. Luckily, I knew this place like the back of my hand.

I crept through the primarily deserted halls, making for one of my favorite hiding spots, one that even the cast and crew couldn't find me at. Soon, I was on one of the catwalks, a lesser used one hidden in shadow. Walking along, I found the small crevice in the wall. It was a bit of a risk, crossing the small space between the wall and the catwalk, but I had done it enough times to be able to easily step over, and into the small niche.

Once I was through, I crawled a little, and came to a hidden room. I had discovered it a few years back, and, as far as I knew, I was the only one aware of it's existence. It was the perfect place to hide.

Curling up the corner, I was finally able to allow myself to cry as hard as I wished. And cry, I did.

 **A/N- I'm sleep deprived. You know how I know that? I woke up this morning, and saw on my computer two pages pulled up. The first was Google Docs, where I had written out a chapter for a story (not one I have published) and it was beautifully written, one of my best, I'd say, and had very eloquent wording. The weird part? I don't remember writing it. Also, the second page was 101 Things You Don't Need to Know. All day, I've been spouting off random and totally useless facts.**

 **For instance, did you know that, on average, a person lies 144 times a day?**

 **Or that 0.7% of our daily language is swear words?**

 **Or that the Earth will be completely submerged in water in a few hundred years?**

 **Or that if you flick your finger over the outside of your ear, it sounds like Pacman?**

 **Or that, unless your toothbrush is at least 61ft away from your toilet, you're brushing your teeth with particles of poop and pee?**

 **Or that Nemo is a girl, and Cinderella's name actually means Toilet Cleaner?**

 **...**

 **See what I mean?! I don't remember learning this!**

 **XD Okay, oddities aside, that's all I have for now. Until next time, fave, follow, review, and PM me!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N- I honestly can't think of anything to say right now, which is pretty unusual for me.**

 **Anyway, reviews!**

 **From Chapter 1:**

 **daringwolf2000: sorry, I would have replied to this in the last chapter, but you reviewed AFTER I posted it, so, yeah. Sorry again. Also, glad you like the chapter! And, you're welcome! :D**

 **Chapter 2:**

 **daringwolf2000: yeah, like I said, completely useless, and somewhat gross. XD And did you _honestly_ think that any of my characters would _ever_ sit back as someone accused them of murder, even one like Adrienne? I mean, they all seem to be pretty headstrong and temperamental (though I'm trying to dial that down in Adrienne, for the sake of her character development in this story)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.**

I don't know how long I was sitting there, crying, but it felt like an eternity. Not that I had any kind of a life that required a time schedule, though.

Suddenly, there was a creak, and a few footsteps. They stopped short, though, and I could _feel_ the gaze of someone on me. I froze, my sobs immediately stopping, and slowly looked up, gasping at what I saw.

Standing before me, in all his enigmatic glory, was a dark figure, clad in a black shirt, trousers, and cape, his dark hair combed back. But, what stood out the most was the bright white mask covering half of his face, and the mysterious eyes that captured my attention, many layers hidden within them, but the foremost emotion being surprise.

It was the Phantom.

I tried to scoot back, though I was already against the wall, and made myself as small as possible. Something about his aura just screamed _fear me_ _._ I dipped my head low, hiding my face in my hair, and avoided eye contact.

"Please don't hurt me," I whispered.

The Phantom didn't say anything, but he did walk closer to me. His footfalls were almost silent, but it was an innate instinct that told me he was now crouching before me. Every fiber of my being told me to run, but there was no where to go.

I felt a finger lift my face, and, terrified, I studied him with a morbid fascination, as he did the same. Though, his gaze was more calculating, and showed no fear. He reached his other hand out, and gently brushed away the hair that was hiding my burns. I flinched when he touched me, and looked away as he inspected my scars.

He withdrew his hand, and I dared to look him in the eye. He didn't seem horrified by my scars, nor did he seem like he wanted to mock me for them. Instead, he seemed… empathetic?

"What's your name, child?" he asked. The Phantom's voice was smooth, and deep, almost comforting, and I knew that he could put much power behind his voice, if he put the right emphasis on the right words. And I think he knew that.

"A-adrienne," I stammered. "Are you truly the Phantom of the Opera?"

He smiled, though it seemed bitter. "That appears to be the name I have adopted over the years, yes."

I felt myself relax the tiniest bit, and I smiled wistfully, my mind going back to when I was younger, and my parents were alive. "You know, I've spent almost my entire life looking for you here."

"I usually don't want to be found," he replied simply.

"Yet the one time I'm not looking for you, and am trying myself not to be found, is the time I finally see you," I chuckled slightly at the irony, as did he.

"I suppose you're right, Ms. Adrienne." His smiled slipped away. "May I inquire, what brings you up here, in such a distraught state?"

"The cruelties of the world," I answered bitterly.

The Phantom's expression took on a darker countenance. "Believe me, I know of cruelties. I assume it has to do with your scars?"

I nodded. "I recently lost my parents in a fire, which is where I was burned. Because of my injuries, everyone has been treating me differently, speaking warily around me, and acting more nervous. The only person to take me in was a cruel woman, and I was basically her slave, and preferred object of ridicule. Then, I found out that everyone thinks I started the fire, and killed my parents, since I was the only one who made it out alive. So, I slapped a lady, and ran off, somehow ending up here."

The Phantom was silent for a second, and seemed surprised. "So, _you_ were the one I threw the rope to?"

My head shot up, startled. "Wait, _you_ were the one who threw me the rope?" Suddenly, I recalled the dark figure disappearing after I was given the means of my survival. "I saw you! I saw you leave, after you threw me the rope!" I smiled at him, more genuine and heartfelt than any I had given since that tragic night. "Thank you, by the way. For saving me. How did you know I was up there?"

"I heard you yelling," he answered. "There was a rope coiled on the ground, and so I threw it up, hoping you would be able to make it out."

I nodded, and cocked my head. "Why were you there, though? I thought you stayed here?"

He gave me a bemused look, and, I'm assuming, raised an eyebrow. It was understandably uncertain to tell, due to the mask. "Do you honestly believe that I spend all my days here?"

I shrugged, realizing how ridiculous that truly was. He was obviously a living, breathing person, so he of course needed to get food, supplies, and perhaps simply some fresh air.

I sighed, and leaned my head against the wall, and felt fresh tears begin to fall down my face anew.

"I have nowhere to go now," I whispered, as the realization crashed down on me. I don't know what spurred on this sudden emotion, but it was there, nonetheless. "I left the little bit of a life I was offered. That was all I had, terrible as it may have been."

The Phantom gave me an odd look. "Given what you have told me, you couldn't have stayed there, regardless. Not with people like that."

He stood, and held a gloved hand out to me. "Come, Adrienne. Follow me."

I complied, accepting his hand to help me stand. He led me through corridors, and down winding steps, until we reached the far bottom. Water lapped gently at the stone, and the Phantom helped me into a boat, before getting in himself, and propelling the two of us along.

Before long, we reached the other side, and I smiled, gasping lightly at what I saw.

Many candelabras were set up, their small flames giving off a warm light. Red velvet curtains decorated the walls, and I saw a full-length mirror, though it was shattered. I puzzled over this for only a second, before looking around more. Few furnishings were there, but the Phantom helped me out of the boat, and pulled aside some black curtains, revealing a silver, shell-shaped bed, with lush red interior.

"You may sleep here," he said, motioning to the bed.

I looked up at him, astounded. "Pardon?"

He gave me a bittersweet smile. "I know firsthand how cruel this world can be, even more so than you could understand. I empathize with you. You may reside here, in the opera house, with me, if you wish."

I smiled gratefully, not believing my luck, and dipped my head to him. "Thank you. I don't know how I could ever repay you."

He didn't respond, simply motioning once again to the bed. I climbed in, and fell asleep almost immediately, hardly noticing when the Phantom closed the curtains, and left me to my slumber. It was the first truly good sleep I've had in three weeks.

 **A/N- So, yeah. That happened. This chapter was kinda cool to write, it's been floating around in my brain for a while.**

 **And, did you honestly think it could have been anyone else to save her from the fire?! Or to find her, in her perfect little hiding spot? XD**

 **Anyway, fave, follow, review, and PM me!**


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